


Interdependence

by UselessLilium (o0whitelily0o)



Series: Kazumi Onimaru Appreciation Project [2]
Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: BDSM, Depression, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Mostly implied BDSM but, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 04:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13092429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0whitelily0o/pseuds/UselessLilium
Summary: A year before the Diffride, Kazumi decided to participate in the U20. And a year before the Diffride, he found himself dreaming of his avatar.





	Interdependence

When you were little, you used to dream about Shiranui. They weren’t common, but you made sure to remember as much about them as you could. And even when you couldn’t remember what happened, you did remember how they felt. Whether he was picking you up in his giant claws and flying away with you, or smashing your house (a scenario which left you feeling horribly guilty after you woke up), they were  _ happy  _ dreams, about someone safe and dependable being there with you.

Which was sort of why you chose his card in the first place. You know you’re supposed to see yourself as your avatar; that was the whole  _ point _ . But the way you thought of Shiranui was a little different. He was what you aspired to be, back then. The Shiranui you always imagined was strong and brave and looked after everyone who followed him. And every time Kazuma smiled at you, your determination to be like that too strengthened.

At least, that’s what you thought. Before you had to face that you couldn’t be like that, and that trying had only hurt the person you wanted to help most.

Still... in spite of the cruel realization, you couldn’t let go of Shiranui. If anything, you clung to him harder after Kazuma was sent away. Your deck was all you had left that was really yours, after all. And even if you couldn’t imagine being strong like your avatar anymore, you still... you still needed his strength. More than ever. Even if it was just a useless fantasy, you needed  _ something  _ to keep you moving, when you were starting each day already exhausted and ending  them fueled by nothing more than a need to not let the cracks show.

Of course you knew it was silly. Childish. You’re eighteen, you should have grown out of this long ago. But when you decided to tell your parents you were entering a Vanguard tournament, or when you typed out a request for teammates online, it was still Shiranui you imagined to steady your voice and your hands.

So when you started having them again, it wasn’t exactly unexpected.

 

* * *

The night after your qualifier match, you stayed up long after Verno and Miguel had left for the guest rooms, going through your deck. That always helped you calm down, and you really needed to tonight if you wanted to get any sleep at all. It was for sure now that you were going to be participating in the U20 with them. You’d talked to them both before they arrived, but you still didn’t know much about either of them. Were you being a good host? They seemed to be enjoying themselves, and your family always worked hard to put on its best face for guests, but was that enough? You were the team leader, after all. This was all your idea. You didn’t want to let them down.

At some point, you don’t know how long it took, your vision starts to slip. It happens too suddenly to register at first. One minute you’re putting the finishing touches on your deck, and then the next your deck, desk, and room were all gone, and you were somewhere else entirely. You blink, too surprised to think clearly, and settle for looking around yourself for some kind of explanation. There were stars and dark space in every direction, and it feels like you’re floating.

You’re dreaming. You must have fallen asleep at your desk. Even this realization felt a little strange, though. Normally you wouldn’t be able to recognize that until after you’d already woken up. But this oddity is cast from your mind immediately, when you look back in front of you and see Shiranui there.

_ He’s huge _ , you think immediately. Maybe not quite twice your height, but close to it. And his physique only dwarfed you further. You think even one of his arms would match your whole torso. And his blue eyes are icy and bright, and stand out clearly against the dark backdrop of space.

They widen when he sees you. But after a few moments of holding each other’s gaze, he’s the one to cautiously lean down towards you, and hold out a hand. You don’t even have to think about whether or not to accept it. This is just a dream. You can do whatever you want.

As soon as you make contact with him, the empty space around you vanishes in a flash, forcing your eyes shut until you feel something solid under your feet. Surprised into glancing around, you find the two of you in some kind of room. It’s large, and the walls look like some kind of glass. You can still see the stars outside through them, though not at clearly, and the glass gives them a violet tinge. The floor is more opaque, though, and seems solid enough. You finally draw your hand back, feeling a bit embarrassed at taking so long to do so. Though you’re almost surprised how easily you were able to pull out of his grip. Surely if he wanted to, he could have just held you in place.

You’re still trying to think of what to say when Shiranui straightens himself back up, tail coiling and uncoiling behind his back. “You are a human, aren’t you?”

The voice sounds familiar. Maybe you’d heard it in dreams before, but if you had, you couldn’t remember that much after waking. Now, though, it’s low and smooth, and clear enough that your heart jumps a bit at actually hearing it. You guess you’d expected something more like a growl. Still, even in a dream, you don’t want to keep him waiting. So as is only right, you put a hand to your chest and bow deeply. “I am, yes. My name is Kazumi Onimaru.” At a time like this, the extent self-control was instilled in you is a blessing. Your voice doesn’t tremble, and your words don’t stumble over themselves. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Rise, Kazumi,” he says, sounding a little amused to you. His tail is moving less, relaxing into a settled position by his feet. “It’s as I thought, then... I recognized you. Or your presence, at least.” He steps closer, crouching down so that your faces are nearly touching. Though even like this, you still have to look up at him - it’s a bit dizzying. “You are what they call my ‘Vanguard’, am I correct?”

“Yes.” Though you can hold back the almost giddy bubble of laughter that threatens to spill out, you can’t help the smile that the admission brings. You notice that you can even feel Shiranui’s breath, now that he’s this close. This really is by far the most vivid dream you’d had in... well. In a while. Your smile tightens a bit, but you push that memory aside. You’d already decided you weren’t going to think about that any more. It was too selfish. Besides, thinking just about yourself here, in front of him, would be unforgivably rude. “My apologies,” you say, forcing your expression to smooth back out, “I’m afraid I’m a bit caught off-guard by this.”

“We’re alike in that, then,” he says, very magnanimous. He reaches one of his hands towards you, and you marvel again at the difference in size between you. He could probably crush your throat with just a few of his fingers. You swallow, ignore how hard your heart is pounding, and let him give your shoulder an experimental squeeze. “I wouldn’t have expected a connection like this was possible.” He moves his hand down, lifting up your arm. Your forearm fits almost neatly into his palm, and he gives another light squeeze. “Humans... are a bit smaller than I would have thought, it seems.”

You do laugh a little at that, and at the way his touch tickles a bit. He’s being careful not to let his claws dig into you, and the realization sends a wave of affection through you. “I suppose so. Even Verno doesn’t come close to matching you.”

“‘Verno’?”

“Ah - one of my teammates,” you say, abruptly feeling silly. “We’re... entering a Vanguard tournament together.” You want to die. Why would he care about something like that? He has more important things to think about, you’re sure.

“A tournament...” He tilts his head, then stretches his lips back to show more of his teeth. You catch yourself staring at them, and tell yourself it’s because you’re trying to figure out if it’s a grin or not. “You’re demonstrating your strength, then?”

You laugh, because you’re not sure what else to do. “I suppose so.”

His tail lashes once. Impatiently, you think. “You suppose... is it, or isn’t it?”

...You want so badly to impress him. Or, at the very least, not disappoint him. Even in a dream, the thought’s unbearable. So you nod, and say as confidently as you can, “It is, yes.”

His expression doesn’t change, but you can feel his approval in the way he straightens up and crosses his arms. “Good. Then I’ll ensure your victory, my Vanguard.”

Your chest tightens. ‘My Vanguard’. He’d said it before, you know, but that was as question. This was a declaration. Your smile threatens to break into a grin that you just know would look ridiculous on your face. “I’m sure you will,” you say, “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely show everyone what you and Nubatama are capable of.”

He starts to say something else, you think, but the scene grows hazy. Like static on a radio, the sound fizzles out, and then the image before your eyes starts to as well. You stomach drops, and you instinctively reach towards him, like holding onto him would keep the rest in place. But before you know it, your eyes open back to your room, and your desk, and an insistent knocking at your door.

“Kazumi-sama, your guests are already up,” one of the servant’s calls out to you, “We’ll be serving breakfast soon. Please don’t be late.”

...So you really did fall asleep here, then. No wonder you dreamed about your avatar. At least you feel rested enough, even if you’re sore from sleeping in an awkward position. You let out a small sigh, then answer, “I’ll be right there.”

Quietly, you pack your cards back up. You let yourself pause at Shiranui again, and smile a bit. You can’t forget, there’s a lot of reasons for you to give your best at the U20. Miguel and Verno are counting on you, and naturally Shiranui would expect you to work hard. Besides... you decided to enter this tournament to try and change yourself, didn’t you? Going into it expecting the worst defeats the point.

With that firmly in mind, you set the dream aside and decide to focus on the day ahead.

 

* * *

Except then it happens again. And then again after that. Not quite every night, but more often than not. You honestly don’t know what to make of it. There’s a continuity to these dreams that you’ve never experienced before. You always appear in that same space, and Shiranui always remembers what you talked about before, and you’re always alone, just the two of you. And always, he’s as vividly real as he was the first time.

It’s... a little unsettling, when you stop to think about it. Can you really just brush this all off as a series of dream, with how irregular it all is?

But that only other possibilities are that it’s all some kind of delusion, or it’s somehow real. The latter... is impossible, and that’s all there is to it. And the former, well, is there really a difference between a dream and a delusion that puts you to sleep anyway?

It’s not like it’s hurting anyone, even yourself. If anything, you feel better after you wake up. Shiranui seems interested in your performance at the U20, and being able to tell him about it and seeing his pride in your abilities makes it easier to feel proud of yourself. It’s just a more convincing version of what you’ve been doing all along, really. Using him to push yourself forward. And whenever your conversations starts to drift towards something less comfortable, you can easily turn the conversation towards him, and his life on Cray. He won’t go into specifics on the kinds of jobs his clan has been called on to do, but he’ll share with you details about his comrades. Things like how Noroi’s become more skilled at stealth lately, or how Fuurai has developed a passion for tracking, or all kinds of things. He doesn’t get the opportunity to talk about them with others, he admits, no matter how proud of them he is. They have too many enemies to let information about their abilities leak. But it’s safe to tell you.

You’re honored... and more simply than that, you’re happy. It makes your whole deck feel more alive when you wake back up. Like you really are connected to all of them.

And there’s more proof that this couldn’t possibly be real, anyway. The Shiranui you dream about is very indulgent with you. He lets you examine his claws and teeth when you admit your interest, and he lets you sit next to him, and even on his lap once you point out it’s the best way to mitigate the size difference between the two of you. You think he finds it amusing, and you can’t blame him. They’re such silly things to want. If he were the real Shiranui, you’re sure he wouldn’t have that much patience with all your pointless requests. And you certainly wouldn’t have the nerve to ask at all, if it were real.

Naturally, you don’t tell anyone about these dreams. Miguel and Verno are both very nice and you like them quite a bit, but you can’t imagine them reacting with anything other than laughter. It’s just too ridiculous, that you’re so obsessed with your own avatar and deck you’d keep dreaming about him like this. Besides, you’re the leader. Or, you’re supposed to be, at least. Why would they trust you if they think you’re losing your grip?

...Or maybe they  _ would  _ just feel worried for you. They might think it’s a symptom of stress, and want to help. And if that happened... they might say something to your parents. 

No, you definitely can’t give  _ anyone _ a reason to think you might not be okay.

But even if you can hide it from the people around you, you guess you can’t really hide your exhaustion from your own subconscious. That must be why, about halfway through the second stage, he pushes some of your bangs out of your face and says, “You seem distracted, Kazumi.”

You flinch out of your preoccupation, not sure if his tone is disapproving or merely questioning. “I’m sorry,” you say, and then try to laugh it off, “It’s been a long day, I suppose I’m a little tired.”

“Hm.” He withdraws his hand, letting your hair fall back into place, and leans down towards you.  “Is that really all?”

...Lying to him when he’s looking at you so directly is impossible. “Well... no, maybe not all,” you admit, looking down at your hands in your own lap. “It’s just... something a bit embarrassing. Not anything you need to concern yourself with.”

Shiranui’s tail lashes behind him once. “Are you not my Vanguard? What’s the purpose of trying to keep secrets from me?”

“N-no, I don’t mean to do that, it’s just-” How can you complain to him about anything? He has so many more important things to do. Battles to fight, with people depending on him. It’s not like you’re doing anything dangerous, or even anything you dislike. Verno and Miguel are both nice, interesting people. The tournament is going well. But it’s been weeks since they’ve arrived, and even if you like them, being around them all the time - having to talk, to be engaged and read their moods and make sure they’re enjoying themselves, all the time - is wearing you out. It’s pathetic, and humiliating. And above all,  _ impossible  _ to admit to the strong and self-assured dragon next to you. 

But you have to say  _ something _ , and something embarrassing enough to convince him to drop it, so you wind up blurting out instead, “I was just wondering. Since I’ve been playing so much lately. What a bind spell feels like.”

His tail freezes behind him, eyes fixed right on you. It’s really not a lie, technically. It’s something you’ve casually and maybe not-so-casually wondered about for years. And it  _ is _ , somehow, much less humiliating to admit to him. You wind up laughing first. “See, it’s really silly. Don’t mind me, please, continue your story-”

“Would you like me to try it on you?”

...

Your face is already beet-red, you’re sure of it. You can’t really speak. The best you can manage is am almost squeaky, “Um.”

His lips peel back again, in what you’ve come to recognize is a smile. Whether it’s a taunt or reassurance, you still can’t tell, though. “Well? I need an answer one way or another, Kazumi.”

You mean to decline with another laugh, but. Really, if you can’t even do this here, you probably never will. “I... if you don’t mind.”

“Very well.” He straightens back up, and gestures for you to stand. You push yourself off his lap, and turn back towards him. Standing straight and trying to face him without really sure where you’re supposed to look, your heart is pounding hard enough to hurt. What does your face look like right now? You can’t even guess. A numbness starts sinking into you, and you don’t know if you’re even capable of enjoying this when you’re feeling so nervous.

 

Then, laying his palm out and suddenly snapping his wrist and clenching his fist, rope appears from the ground. Thick white rope, coiling first around your ankles, and then latching onto your wrists, forcing them together and pulling them down to just above your knees. You gasp despite yourself as you’re jerked forward a bit, and try to adjust your balance. Your legs might as well be nailed down for all you can move them. There’s a fraction more slack where your wrists are concerned, but you don’t have to do more than give an experimental tug to know that you’d sooner break them than get another inch of movement.

“Well?” Shiranui asks, sounding a bit proud of himself, “What do you think?”

“It’s- um-” and you do laugh now, but not because you’re forcing yourself. It just comes out, helpless as the rest of you. The position is a little uncomfortable, and you don’t feel steady at all. Your breathing is still a bit shallow, which you hope talking will distract from. “It’s interesting. I didn’t realize how thick the ropes would be.”

“Are you enjoying it, though?”

Your face is completely red now. You make sure to keep it turned down, and stay busy looking at the ropes. “I- well, I don’t dislike it-”

“That isn’t what I asked.” He reaches towards you with those large hands and sharp claws again. Not for the first time, you think he could really do anything to you. With or without being bound, you have no power that could match his - not even a fragment. If he wanted to crush you, tear you apart, force all the air out of you and watch you struggle to reclaim it, you couldn’t do a thing to stop him. 

Instead, he tilts your chin up with one claw to make you look him in the eye, the tip just barely digging into the skin. It’s frustratingly light, you think. You want- you want to tell him you can handle more.

“This kind of thing,” he asks, soft but direct, “Do you enjoy it?”

You can’t lie. Not when he looks at you like that.

“Yes,” you say, barely more than a whisper. His claw scrapes the underside of your chin as he withdraws it. 

“I see.”

“I’m- I’m sorry,” you say, immediately, “I shouldn’t said anything - you don’t have to do this, it was just a stupid idea-”

“No. I don’t mind.” He’s still watching you very carefully. “You  _ have  _ been tired, haven’t you? Is this tournament truly that wearying?”

...You let your eyes drop. “It is... but, it’s alright. I can handle this sort of thing, really.”

“It wasn’t a criticism.” He touches you again. Very carefully brushing some of your hair back over your shoulder, almost stroking your cheek. You lean into it, not able to help yourself. “You are your team’s leader, and soon to be the leader of your family. I know that sort of responsibility can be quite heavy.” His hand lingers there, only a few fingers fitting against your face, and he shows his teeth in a smaller smile. “If you like this sort of thing, I don’t mind indulging you. Consider it a reward for your hard work.”

You’re struck with shame. Even though he has so many more important things to worry about than you. Even though your problems are so petty. But even knowing that, you nod and say, “If it’s not any trouble.” His smile grows, and suddenly the ropes around your wrist shorten, pulling you down into kneeling. Your knees hit the ground hard enough to sting, but that just adds to the rush of excitement that hits you, as dizzying as the abrupt movement.

And you look up, at him, at his glittering teeth and eyes, as he leans down, eclipsing the stars around you, and almost croons, “Then tell me, my Vanguard, what it is you hope to get.”

It’s just a dream, you remind yourself as you start to smile back. That’s all. There’s nothing to feel guilty about. If you can’t even comfort yourself with fantasies, then there really isn’t anywhere else to turn.

 

* * *

For the rest of the tournament, you fall into a routine. During the day, you fight alongside Miguel and Verno, and in between stages you take them around the city and hope it doesn’t show just how little time you’ve spent outside of your house. You check in with your father routinely, though you’ve been excused from most of your regular duties until the U20 is over, and try to fit in studying when you can. Every minute is occupied, without exception.

And at night - nearly every night, now - you dream about Shiranui, and surrender yourself to his care.

When you wake up, you find yourself checking your skin for any kinds of marks. But no matter what, there’s nothing. No matter how vividly you remember your dreams, there’s no sign of them being real. You don’t know if that’s a relief or not. Even if you know it’s for the best, there’s still a pang of disappointment when you have to face that nothing really happened. It wasn’t real, and neither is he, and you can’t lose sight of that. You’re indulging in this fantasy far too much already.

But on the other hand... if dreams are all they are, then you can push yourself further. Ask him for teeth, for claws, for blood. You really  _ can  _ give him everything, without any fear of the consequences. It’s freeing, being able to throw yourself entirely into this scenario, to admit at least to yourself how badly and how long you’ve wanted it.

And yet you have to confront, too, that what you’re offering in return is so meager. What would any partner get out of this in reality? Even the Shiranui you’ve imagined is just doing it to reward you, and you’re grateful, but in between the pain and release, you just can’t shake the guilt that follows. You’re making him do everything, and feeling happy about it all by yourself. If this  _ was  _ all really happening, you don’t think you could stand it. It’s too selfish.

Then, even though it felt like it might go on forever, the U20 does end. Shortly after, Miguel and Verno return home. It’s a bit of a shock, how quiet things are without them. You’re father goes over everything you’re going to have to catch back up on, now that your game is over. Weeks of work and school assignments, of course, and some upcoming meetings your father expects you to attend alongside him. It’s only a few more years until you’ll be in charge completely. He reminds you, again, that he can’t always hold your hand through these things. You won’t have the luxury of putting your hobbies ahead of your responsibilities much longer.

You listen, nod and agree politely, and manage to hold off your collapse until you’ve made it back in your room.

Sure enough, you see the same dream again. The same space, the same stars, and the same companion. He’s already sitting, and gestures for you to come closer. You smile, trying to focus on your fondness for him over the mess of your other feelings. None of them are new. Nothing you’ve been told is new, either. So for now, just let yourself relax for a little while instead.

“This was your final match, wasn’t it? Was it a success?” Shiranui asks, though there’s confidence enough in his voice that you can tell he’s already assured himself of the answer.  


“It was.” You smile, letting him help you up onto his lap. His hand remains against your back, his thumb rubbing you a bit, like he’s petting you. “We won. I struck the final blow, so to speak.”

His eyes glitter with unmistakable pride, and you try so hard to hold on to it. To remind yourself why you did all of this in the first place. “Well done,” he says, “As expected of my Vanguard.”

Right. You did this... you did this because...

“...Is something wrong?” He tilts his head, tone utterly uncomprehending, “You don’t look pleased.”

You open your mouth to agree, to reassure. But when you try, the words won’t come out. Your throat is completely blocked, you can’t even breath around the effort of forcing the words through. You curl in on yourself, and grab onto his wrist, and finally what comes out is, “I- I shouldn’t have won.” With the block finally overcome, the rest comes pouring out regardless of whether you want it to or not. “Everyone there- they were all working so hard. They wanted this so badly. And I just... I trampled over all of them.”

You can’t look up at him, even when he tries to turn you towards him. Even when he tries to force your chin up, your eyes dodge him, and you start shaking, so he draws his hand back. “What are you saying? You fought hard to bring your team victory, there’s no question of that.”

“I did. It worked. But-” How do you put this into words? “But you weren’t there. You didn’t see them. All these people, they had so much passion. They care about Vanguard so much.” And you do to, but... not for the same reasons. “People who wanted to be professionals, who wanted to prove themselves.” Even Miguel and Verno. They fit in there. They have ambition,  _ real  _ ambition. It was only you who was lying to everyone. Someone else, anyone who really wanted to win... that was who should have been leading them. You just shake your head weakly and say, “I shouldn’t have been there. Not when all I wanted was-”

You trail off, remembering when you first saw one of Try3’s fights. You’d actually felt excited.  _ Thrilled _ . For the first time in so long. And watching them all, they looked... so happy. You actually remembered, watching them, what playing Vanguard used to feel like. How it made you feel. You wanted that back. Maybe, if you had a team, and fought alongside people instead of just against them, you  _ could  _ get it back. You wanted to try and be happy, even if you could never see Kazuma again. 

And it hadn’t worked.

You wrap your arms around yourself, feel yourself shaking. If it’s really impossible, then you can’t forgive yourself. If being with him is still the only way you can be happy - if you still want that, even knowing how much it would hurt him - then you really shouldn’t be alive.

“I don’t understand,” Shiranui says, voice low and hard to read. You don’t dare look up to see if his expression is any clearer. “Didn’t you say you were fighting for us? To prove our strength to the people of your world.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, and the sound of your voice makes you realize you’ve started crying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do, or how any of this would feel, but I was wrong, I shouldn’t have tried, I couldn’t do anything from the start, I should’ve  _ known _ ,” the words are as useless as they would’ve been all those years ago, but you can’t hold them back, “I’m sorry, Kazuma, I’m so sorry-”

And then he’s simply not there anymore. You didn’t fall, or change position. You just opened your eyes to a lack of warmth and found yourself sitting on the ground alone. Well, of course. That’s what you were from the start. 

It’s still a while after that, though, before you finally wake up. You linger there, the stars fading too, and keep sobbing out apologies to someone who’s never going to hear them.

 

* * *

After that, the dreams stop. You guess it was all the stress from the tournament causing them. That’s what makes the most sense, anyway. But it’s still... harder to go through your deck than it used to be. At first you think it’s burn-out, but no matter how long you wait, a sense of guilt lingers when you go through your cards. You try not to think about it. You don’t have much reason to play anymore now, anyway.

Time passes, and you keep waking up each morning. You speak when spoken to, you smile when necessary, and you do as asked. The only real difference from last year is that Miguel and Verno message you now. That’s nice of them. You hadn’t expected they’d want to keep contact after the tournament was over. You must have done something right, then. But even with that, you barely even notice the weeks turning to months, turning to nearly summer again until they both start asking whether you’re going to participate in the U20 again this year. They’re in agreement; they’d like to join again as Team Ogre, with you. 

Really... what are you supposed to say to that? There’s no real point to you participating. You can’t be a professional Cardfighter - that was made quite clear to you, and to the recruiters who tried to scout you after the tournament. You’re not sure you’d have wanted to, even if it was possible. It’d be better if those kinds of opportunities went to someone else. And those two would have more fun if they attended with someone who actually shared their passion instead of just faking it, you’re sure of it.

You should decline. It’d be best for everyone. You know that.

...But if you don’t go... what else will you do?

You’ll just stay home. Do as you’re told. Miss a chance to see Miguel and Verno again. And then this year will go by. And then the next one. And the next one.

...

You don’t want to make a choice like this. You wish you weren’t alive to make it.

You’re still stuck on your answer when, one day, you hear a voice. At first you think it’s one of the servants calling you, but... no. You recognize it. This voice, low and smooth, almost crooning your name... you’ve heard it in your dreams.

What else can you do? You follow it, out of your room, down the halls. Towards the garden. Is that... a coincidence? You don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Whether it is or not, whether this is real or not, you just don’t care anymore. You’ll follow this voice anywhere, regardless.

There’s a door. Right in the middle of the grass, just before the pond. A small part of you cautions that this has to be some kind of breakdown you’re having, but the rest of you ignores it. You walk right to the door, pull it open... and you see the stars, and the black skies, and a silhouette you know from a glance. Stumbling in, his name is already on your tongue, a desperate smile starting to crack across your face.

And then you feel them. Not ropes but chains, around your ankles, and then your wrists, stopping you cold before pulling your arms up over your head and forcing you back against the wall, hard enough to make your head ring.

Shiranui still stands there in front of you, watching without a word. The rest of the glass walls vanish, revealing dark stone. You blink, confusion overriding anything else you might feel. “Sh-Shiranui,” you manage to ask, “What’s-”

He steps towards you, but he doesn’t touch you. Bitter disdain rolls off him in waves. “If you didn’t intend to lead us... if you had no power to offer,” he says, through his teeth, “You should never have come anywhere near us.”

And you understand, then, as he watches you silently. This is your fault. You hurt him, somehow. After all, if this is real, then  _ he’s _ been real this whole time. And all you’ve done is cling to him. Feed off his strength, use him to prop yourself up. “I’m- I’m sorry,” you say, “I’m so sorry...”

His eyes narrow, and he lets out a contemptuous snort. But he doesn’t say anything else; he just turns away and you see his shape start to change, shrinking, until he’s out of your line of sight. You hear a door close, and suddenly there’s a horrible splitting in your head. A kind of severing. The view in front of you doesn’t change, and yet somehow you can also see the garden again. Your house, the porch, all of it. You feel your legs moving, walking, and yet the chains around them remain. Someone calls to you and you hear yourself reply, yet your own teeth are grit from the pain too tightly for any sound at all to pass..

When you understand, you’re selfish enough to feel relieved. At least, if Shiranui’s taken control of you, you don’t have to do anything anymore. The pain recedes, and as it does you start to slump against the wall. The chains are all that are holding you up now, but it doesn’t matter. You don’t really feel much of anything, right now. Your body starts to smile, and so do you. This  _ is  _ exactly what you wanted, after all. For someone else to exist instead of you.


End file.
